Loveable Huggable
by LoserLaxen
Summary: Fred and George decide to leave comments in Ginny's diary and Ginny means war. Weasley Wars! COMPLETED.
1. Loveable Huggable

Dear Diary,

Hello Ginny. This is your oh so lovely, most favorite people in the world, your big brothers, Fred and George. Before we continue, we just have to say, your diary is the most entertaining book we've read in a good long while.

Now, under normal circumstances, we are usually a person of honor, far above the likes of reading little girl's diaries. But the tempting red leather of this book called to me….so we put up very little fight and snuggled in for a good read. If you have been wondering where your journal has been the last three days then…well, we admit, it was us.

Now we also need to address something- you ramble. Really, really, badly. At times we would find ourself sitting there going SHUT UP WOMAN. But then you would always throw in a sarcastic quirk or something, and make it all the more entertaining. But while we're on the topic of your rambling, maybe you should cut down on it a little. Especially the parts that have to do with our brother's best friend.

Just a thought.

Also what we wanted to address, is that you write a lot. We mean, a lot, _a lot_. You'll need a diary here soon. We'd be more than happy to supply you with one for Midwinter, but we're sure by then you'll have a new one- and have filled that up as well. So we guess we will give you a new one- fully equipped with a note in the front from yours truly.

We would greatly appreciate it if you don't throw this book down this second, some storming into our room screaming my name at the top of your lungs with that crazy Care-bear stare. Yes, you know the one I'm talking about. It's creepy. Don't do it.

We read this book simply as to greater understand the person who is Ginny. And don't worry, we wont tell Harry that you're totally in love with him. Even though we told him the exact same thing last time we read his diary. Oooh, read between the lines on THAT one. Honestly though, we would never tell a soul anything that you have written down here. Wasely's Promise. Well, we're pretty much done here, but we have two last parting pieces of advice.

One: once your done, come downstairs because mum is making apple pie.

And two: ask Hermione about illusion spells- you might want to put one on dear Alfred here.

Your Loveable, Huggable, Oh-so-Snuggleable (okay, forget that last one….I was trying to go with the rhyming theme…)Most-favorite-big brother's-but-not-quite,

Gred and Forge


	2. Cold as In Dungeon

Disclaimer- didn't put one on the last one….here it is.

Note: dedicated to the one and only Elisabeth….who told me I should stick to one-shots….and all the lovely people who replied. I love you.

Dear Oh-So-Lovely Brothers of mine,

This is your adoring and adorable little sister, Ginny. Ah, I can see the image already, you two, both staring at these words, scratching your heads, then turning to each other, sharing one of those 'twin-looks' shrugging, and turning back to read the rest of what I have to say.

Yeah, don't try to pretend that you didn't do just that.

Why, might you ask, is there a note from me on page 234 of your potions books? Because, my dear, dear brothers, revenge is best served cold. Cold as in dungeon cold. Dungeon as in Potions, Potions as in- okay, I forgot my analogy. But I shall continue, never-the-less.

I really took you sentimental letter to heart. Finding out that my brothers have not only read my diary and left a note for me, but also put little comments next to some of my deepest secrets (Thank you George, for pointing out that I had bogies coming from my nose three days ago when I was yelling at Ron. I'm really glad I was informed of that) has really changed my point of view. So, this note is to thank you for giving me the advice on asking Hermione about illusion spells (they've made the difference of a life time) and also to thank you, because had you not read my diary, I would never have come up with, without a doubt, the greatest revenge I have ever heard of in all my fourteen years.

Still don't know what I'm talking about? I'm sure you believe this is another one of those cases where I ramble, on, and on, and on. But I want to punish you as quickly as possible, so I'll cut to the chase.

Please take a moment to look at all the other pages of your Potions textbooks. Now you are panicking, wondering "Why are they blank?"

That would be me. You see, I have taken the time to sit down and erase every single page of each of your textbooks, so when Professor Grease-Ball calls on you to tell him the most crucial element of a draught potion, you wont be able to tell him.

Revenge is sweet, eh?

Your loveable, huggable, oh-so-snuggleable dear little sis,

Ginny.

Ps: by the way, I would watch out for the KICK ME signs attached to your back with unmovable tape. Love ya!


	3. That Inner Happy Place

DISCLAIMER: not mine.

Dedicated to all my reviewers- you're my favorite people in the entire world. And Elisabeth…even though you don't deserve it. ;-)

_Zodiac1805_

_Genetic Island_

_Heptagon_

_Carolquin_

_Wouldn't U like 2 know_

_xegg-splatx_

_Morgaine of the Faeries_

_AlyshaNemesis_

Dear mum,

We, your most devoted sons, would like to write to you to tell you that the howler we received this morning was really unnecessary, not to mention _particularly_ nasty. Honestly, mother dearest, what would you say if words like that came out of our mouths?

To set the record straight (because we all know you're so eager to hear our side of the story) none of this was our fault. It's not our fault that we're failing Potions. It's also not our fault that we have detention for a month _because_ we're failing Potions. And it's also not our fault that we have even more detentions because we told Snape to shove his greasy little head up his fat-

Well, maybe we _are_ responsible for the last.

But the fact remains that there is one person for whom the majority of this situation can be blamed on- your daughter. Honestly mum, the girl is a devil-child. You see, she erased all the pages in our potions books. After we had gotten over the shock that it was a prank worthy of _us_ we realized that we really were not to blame in the least. Not in the least.

Now, dearest-mother-above-all-other-mothers, we feel the need to tell you that we are truly sorry for anything we have done to put even a single grey hair on your wonderfully red head. Let's put any and all past transgressions behind us, shall we? Start over a fresh leaf- yes, we think that would be the best for everyone in this situation.

So mother, can you let go of all your anger and find your inner happy place? A very happy inner happy place, with soothing noises and…penguins. Yes, penguins will do.

Your loveable, huggable, oh-so-snuggleable sons,

Gred and Forge

PS: make sure to concentrate on your happy place when you get the letter from Professor Dumbledore that should be arriving sometime this morning. Love you!

Authors note-sorry, I just realized how short my chapters have been...but, if you get me to fifteen reviews, I'll update with a nice long, juicy chapter tomorrow!


	4. Snugglebunny GinnyPoo

**Disclaimer: nope, not mine**

Dedication- everyone who reviewed ( I love you), and Elisabeth, cuase…well…she did help me brainstorm.

Dear Fred and George,

This is a letter of complaint. I should inform you that you two are paying for the hospital bills that will result from my shattered eardrum.

You see, it was me, not you, who was in the kitchen while your dear mother was reading your most recent letter. When she reached the part concerning Professor Snape (by the way, nice one), she let loose a scream so wild that I'm sure even Lupin would cower from. As your lovely, heaertfelt letter progressed, her levels became steadily higher and higher, until she was no longer audible and I'm quite sure she breached the sound barrier.

But then, then came the best part of them all. Not two minutes later we received a letter from Dumbledore ("Your loveable, huggable, oh-so-snuggleable Headmaster", as he affectionately referred to himself as) I quite believed she would be the first woman to rocket herself into space- I swear there was steam coming from her ears.

And now boys, I must ask you. Why? Why, why, why? What in the Lord's name possessed you to cover the Great Hall in pages of your sister's diary? And not only that, but to alter them as well, so they were all signed 'Harry's snuggle-bunny Ginny-Poo'?

You have a dark talent my sons. A very dark talent.

Your mother and I are appalled that you would so blatantly invade your sister's privacy, not to mention write falsies about her. Where have we gone wrong with you two? Where have we gone wrong?

Please don't answer that.

Love,

Arthur Weasely

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Authors note: so, that wasn't the juicy chapter. But I'm writing is as we speak, I swear.


	5. The Contract

Disclaimer- not mine, I swear

Dear Fred and George,

I'm writing this against my will, but I really don't see that I have any choice. After all, you _did_ take my signed Chudley Canons poster hostage (that's below the belt, even for you lot!) and I remember the contract. _We, Gred and Forge, will return Chudley Canon's poster to ugly little brother when we see fit. In return for our safe keeping of his prized possession, said ugly little brother must act and do all that we wish. _

_The end._

See, I did read it, even though you thought we didn't. But anyway, I'm writing about Ginny. I had to write this in a letter, because she's having me followed. If we meet- she knows. She even has people listening in on my conversations- I don't know how, but she does. I'm starting to even think that maybe Harry and Hermione are working for her. Do you think im being paranoid? 'Cuase they keep giving me all these weird looks, and it's kind of freaking me out a bit, I mean, its my best mate and my smart-girl-mate-person, which makes me think that they can's possibly be spies, because that would mean threat we were would be enemies.

What do you think?

Oh, yeah, I just remembered why I was writing. I'm not sure what her entire plan is, but if I was you I would stay away from pumpkin juice for the next few days. Maybe carry some in a hip-flask? Oh, I have one I can let you all borrow. Here, I'll send it with the letter.

Anyway, I just thought I should tell you, cuase it is part of our stupid bloody contract.

Ron

Ron looked up from his letter warily. "Gin, are you_ positive_ you can get my poster back?" Ginny nodded from her seat next to him, her eyes wide and innocent. "Most definitely, without a doubt." Ron looked unsure, but despite his misgivings folded the letter into an envelope. Ginny grinned broadly and picked up an empty hip flask that lay between the two siblings. They glanced over their shoulders, scanning the common room quickly.

Sensing everything to be safe, Ginny tipped her hand, allowing the contents to fall into the flask. Beside her Ron shuddered. "Get those things away from me!" he yelled, panicking showing through in his voice. Ginny just grinned evilly and screwed the lid on.

"Let's see if you find this loveable, huggable, and oh-so-snugglable" she muttered to herself darkly. With a very self satisfied smirk, she attached the flask to the letter and attached it to the leg of a very excited Pig, who was flying up and down and all around. She then bounced away and out of the Portrait hole, leaving behind her one very, very, scared Ron.


	6. Predator and Prey

**A/N-_Sorry I haven't updated. School is on and well…UGH. It's stupid. I know. So, my little fans (yes, this fanfic HAS gone to my head) I am back with a chapter for you all, whom I love and adore more then my own dear mum, because you reviewed. _**

Whoever said you couldn't learn things from nature programs? Ginny most certainly had. For she was the cold, collected predator, stalking her prey as they passed by her un-awares on their way to graze. Stepping out of a small nook in the wall, she followed her two older brothers to the Gryffindor table, slinking silently across the Slytherin's who saluted themselves with saturations of strawberry slickers.

_Wow. I need to stop thinking in alliterations_ she thought to herself as she took a seat between Ron and Harry. Harry's blood ran cold in fear when he noticed the self-satissfied smirk on Ginny's face as she watched her brothers closely. "Erm…Gin? What are you doing?" She glanced at him for less than a second before turning back to her brother's.

"Stalking." Behind her back, Ron and Harry exchanged petrified looks, then followed her gaze to where the Weasley twins sat down. "Cheers Gred!" One of them said, raising the flask. "Cheers Forge!" the other saluted. They crossed their arms around each others and took large gulps of the flask, each.

"Ahhh, how sweet-OH MY BLOODY EFFING HELL!" Both boys jumped up, brushing off the spiders that were crawling all over them. Ginny snickered and pointed her wand, whispering something. All at once the boys stood rigid and at attention. Turning to salute Dumbledore, they then broke out in a perfectly choreographed tap dance.

At the end of this spectacle, they stopped, panting, and staring around at the Great Hall.

Silence.

Cricket-noise.

Squeaking of chairs.

Applause.

The twins gaped. They couldn't have heard correctly. Was that the sweet sound of laughter and cheers? Oh, yes it most certainly was. Raising their arms triumphantly, they spun around. "Yeah! Here all week, we take requests!" they yelled before sitting down at the table to cheers and cat calls and whistles.

In front of him Harry heard a very deep, ferocious, petrifying growl. Ginny's eyes were slits, her fist so tightly around her breakfast glass that it would explode any minute. And she growled.

"Ron…think we should…go…" Harry said quickly, jumping up from the table. Ron nodded, jumping up as well, and the two ran full speed away from the small little girl who was sitting by herself.

Growling.

A/N:**_kk, that's done, and it sucked. So not funny. Next ch. Is 3rd person again, but then im going back to documentary POV, I promise. Its nicer to write. This was mostly a filler chapter, just to excuse my lameness of not updating._**


	7. The Realization

bAHHHH! Wow, I havent updated in sooo long. I have my many, many, MANY apologies to all of you. So I worke hard to give you this little chapter. Sorry if it's bad./b

"Harry! Harry mate, wait up!" Harry froze in fear as he glanced at the owner of the voice and the nearest door, calculating how much time he had to dash through the door and make a speedy escape.

"Ah, good. Mind a word?"

Apparently not time enough.

Harry swallowed his suddenly very dry throat as he looked at the Weasley twins. Nodding, he looked over their shoulders nervously and behind him, before daring a quiet whisper.

"Sure, just make it quick. I don't want Ginny to see me talking to you." The two older boys exchanged glances. "Yes, yes, we understand. Now, think you could do us a particular favor, Harry ol' pal?" still searching over their shoulders for any trace of his young, red haired nightmare, Harry barely heard what the two were saying.

"What would it involve?" he asked nervously. The boys exchanged glances again and smiled evilly.

"Why, hardly anything! We just need iyou/i to keep iher/i preoccupied tonight while we go about a little mischief. Once it's nine o'clock, consider yourself off duty. We'd advise you disappear for awhile though." Harry shifted from foot to foot, weighing the decision mentally.

"I'm not sure…" he said uncertainly. Fred sighed. "Come on Harry! The plan is simple, kind of like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work." Harry thought it over for a second, then froze.

"You don't have a brother-in-law Phil." George grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, but it's the thought that counts."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught the flash of red turning the corner. Without a word to either of his companions, he dove for cover under the statue of Hilda the One Eyed Witch. He cowered behind his stone shield as Ginny approached her two older brothers, who were near to quaking in fear.

"Charming to see you here" she said sweetly. With sweat pouring off their foreheads, Fred and George nodded. "Yeah, splendid, absolute riot. Well, best be going." They turned as to run, but were frozen by Ginny's sudden laugh. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up. But her vomit-laugh quickly turned into a deep, terrifying cackle, rather similar to the kind of laugh that people use when impersonating Dracula. Harry watched tensely from behind the statue. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

"You do know that you're not going to pull anything on me. I have you backed into a corner. Admit it- you're scared." Fred and George looked at each other and puffed out their chests. "We're not afraid of anything!"

When the two boys limped into the common room later that evening, people looked on in pity as they stumbled by. Collapsing into two chairs near Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the trio winced at the sight of them. Boils and bruises covered their bodies, and the traces of a Bat Bogie hex could still be seen in the random boogers flying around their heads.

"How bad does it hurt?" Hermione asked tenderly. George winced as he sat back in his chair. "It hurts the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall" he informed her. The portrait hole swung open suddenly and they all turned to stare as Ginny entered, a bounce in her step and smiling gaily. Harry turned to Ron quietly.

"Mate….I think your sister is insane."


	8. Ginny Speaks Out

To the brothers dearest to my heart: Fred and George.

I'm disappointed.

'Kick Me' signs? After all that I did to you…you taped a sign to my back. And not even in unmovable tape, just normal tape. That fell off when I got up from the table.

I'm surprised.

I would think that the two whom I learned everything from would have more sense, more creativity, more ingenuity then to pull something as small, stupid, and uncreative as a 'Kick Me' sign.

I'm ashamed.

That was so lame that I'm not going to even deem it worthy enough for a revenge. I think I'll wait until you can come up with something clever before wasting brain cells on something that is a just punishment. Because 'Kick Me' signs?

It was funny when you did it to Flitwick.

It was funny when you did it to Filch.

It was really funny when you did it to Mrs. Norris.

But it wasn't funny when you did it to me.

Now, I must go, because I have a business meeting with Peeves, to discuss our latest business merger.

Take care now.

Your Loveable, Huggable, Oh-so-Snuggleable sister,

Ginny-winny-pinny-chums


	9. A FireFight!

**_Authors Note:_ Ack! I can not believe how badly I have neglected this story! And I can't believe I have 65 reviews! It's just mind boggling! I'm sorry this chapter is bad, but I just got a new review and was inspired to write a new chapter before CSI was over. **

**Cheers! LoserLaxen**

Harry,

I was just talking to my third cousin twice removed who has a son who has a girlfriend who's little sister goes to Hogwarts, and you will not _believe _what I just found out.

Is it true? It is so great, so imaginative, so….great, that it's almost unbelievable.

It almost brings a tear to my eyes, remembering the old pranks that James and I used to pull.

So please, I have to know: did the Weasley's _really_ turn the Entrance Hall into a firing range. Here is how I heard it.

_"The halls of Hogwarts, usually so busy and full of life where all but silent on that fateful Friday. No one was in sight, for everyone with any sense had taken cover in their common rooms. Or were downstairs watching the show. The only noises that could be heard anywhere were the random explosions, screams, and cheers from the Entrance Hall. _

_It had been turned into a complete swamp which was impenetrable. And in the middle were the noble warriors themselves- Gred and Forge, clothed in camouflage robes, and Ginny, who stood by herself furiously hexing everything and anything in her sight while Ron cowered pathetically behind her, forced into fighting by the leash she had attached to his ear. _

_There was a fire-fight! And then, amidst the battle, the fiercest warrior of all appeared- Professor McGonagall." _

So really, is it true? That now all four of them are expelled, and Molly was so ashamed that she threw them out of the house and now they are living in a box in Diagon Alley?

Please, do tell, because I get absolutely no good gossip down here in the North Pole.

_Sirius_


	10. A Hogwarts Inferno

Sirius,

If you value my life in any way, then you will come here now and get me.

It's unsafe for me to walk the halls any more. Every living moment I am being hunted and threatened, by the scariest thing you can imagine.

No, not dementors.

No, not Voldie.

No, not Aunt Petunia's cooking, either.

Yup.

Ginny.

As to your earlier letter, I have absolutely no idea what you're going on about. We haven't had a swamp in the front hall (yet)- but we have had fire-fights in the middle of the hallways. Seamus got hit the other day when he was late to Potions- his ears are now so huge that they flop around when he's running.

You see, the Weasley twins asked me for help. And I couldn't turn them down, seeing how they would probably make my life a living hell if I did. So I distracted Ginny. I took her down to the lake, and had her help me study for Herbology. No, it was Potions. Wait, I think it was History of Magic. Or was it Charms? I can't for the life of me remember, I'm that scared.

So when the twins said I could 'release her' we walked back up to the castle and into the Common Room, having a pretty good time. I flopped on the couch, halfway prepared to run at any second, and she went up to her dormitory. It was silent for a moment, but you could tell that every eye in the room was on the stairs leading up to the girls Dorm. After awhile, nothing happened, and people were calming down- when there was a scream.

Sirius, it was like nothing I've ever heard before. It was like a mixture of a lion snarling and a wolf growling. Yeah, pretty damn scary.

Ginny came roaring down the stairs, her wand at the ready and pointed at-

Yup. Me.

So I now have boils all over my arms and nose, and on the insides of my legs. You can imagine how much it hurts to play Quidditch.

All because Gred and Forge stole her Pygmy Puff…

Please save me,

Harry.

**_Authors note:_ Ha! Switching things up a bit and putting it at the _end_. Right, well, I hope you all enjoyed it, and I will attempt to think of something to do for my next plot as soon as possible. Hope/ LoserLaxen**


	11. Personal Sacrifices

"Harry? We need to talk."

Petrified in fear, Harry squeezed his eyes shut, praying this wasn't for real.

_Please be dreaming, please be dreaming._

"Harry, I know you're not asleep. Stop faking it." Harry saw there was no use in pretending. Almost shaking, he sat up on the couch in the Common room.

"Gin! Didn't er- didn't see you there…" Gin sat down on the couch next to him. Harry tried to pretend that he didn't flinch away slightly.

"We need to talk."

Harry's heart almost stopped. His eyes went wide in fear, and he knew what was coming next. With some sudden burst of courage, he shook his head.

"No! No more pranks! I'm not helping _anyone_ with any more pranks! I have been given boils, rashes, OVER-INLARGED FINGERS, and to make matters worse, I COULDN'T EAT BREAKFAST FOR A WEEK BECAUSE SOMEONE MADE THE MUSCLES IN MY MOUTH IMOBILE!"

"That was actually Gred and Forge, I haven't learned that curse yet…" Ginny cut in. "I DON'T CARE! POINT IS, I'M DONE!" Ginny nodded.

"Me too" she said nonchalantly. Harry nearly choked. "You're what?" he sputtered, sitting down again.

"I'm done. With Easter coming up and all, I decided to give up pranks for the Lenten season." Harry blinked.

"Oh. I didn't know you all were Catholic. Or is Lent a Jewish thing?" Ginny shrugged. "Beats me. And we're not. I just need an excuse to stop. It's quite tiring, thinking up pranks to end all pranks on a daily basis. I just needed a reason to stop without looking like a wimp. And I think that giving up pranks as a sacrifice to Our Lord is the perfect way out. Or is it Allah?" Harry shrugged.

"I dunno. I'm non-denominational so J.K.R won't get sued." Ginny nodded.

"Right, well, I gotta go. Just wanted to tell you that, and apologize for the boils." Harry grinned and waved.

"Later!" he called as she walked away. Once she was completely out of eyesight, he flopped back down on the couch, shaking his head.

_"That girl is mental_."

**_Authors Note:_ hah! Put it at the end again. Right, so, I was cracking up while I wrote this, and it was inspired b'c I was eating a chocolate bar and then faintly remembered I gave up chocolate for Lent. Maybe this wont amuse others as much as it amused me…but whatever. Read and Review, please! **

**Hope/LoserLaxen**


	12. When In Doubt, Blow it Out

**Authors Note: Alright….so….um…please don't throw rocks at me…I'm ashamed to admit, I'd rather forgotten about this…but then someone added it to their story alert list and I remembered and I feel downright horrible, seeing as I always complain to my sister when people draw out stories and then leave them, so I'm really rather a hypocrite. But it's an update! A very crappy one, seeing as I have no idea what to write about….but I felt that it was owed. Though I honestly doubt anyone is watching this story anymore. **

**Oh well. Onto the update of crap.**

"Mr. Weasley." Ron froze in terror as the voice of his nightmares came from behind him. He turned slowly, scrunching his eyes closed as if hoping that if he couldn't see Snape, Snape couldn't see him.

"Yes?" he squeaked, every inch of his face and ears a vibrant red.

"May I ask what you are doing out so close to curfew…without your trousers?" Snape drawled, the evilest of smiles playing on his greasy mouth.

Apparently Ron's plan to hide behind the suite of armor hadn't worked.

"It was my brothers, sir, they attacked me…and the Fat Lady changed her password, I can't get in…" Snape cut him off with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

"No time for excuses, Mr. Weasley. I believe a trip to the Headmaster's is in order." Ron's blush died and his face turned a pale, pale white instead.

"But, but, professor! I'd have to walk through the school and I-" Snape ignored him and began marching down the hall.

"Come on, Weasley. I don't like to wait."

"Well, Mr. Weasley, it certainly does look like you have yourself in a predicament." Professor Dumbledore smiled as he looked down the nose of his half-moon glasses. Ron stared intently at the floor.

No one had given him any pants yet.

"I told you sir, it was my brothers. Then somehow they got the Fat Lady to change the password…" Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, of course. Now, may I ask how it came about that you and your siblings are in war? I've been sending so many letters to your mother lately I feel as though we're pen mates." Ron shrugged.

"Well, it started off with a prank the twins played on Ginny, and then she got even, and then they had to get revenge…well, things have gotten a whole lot worse, and then Ginny decided to stop, and the twins had all these great things planned…so they're getting back at me for helping Ginny." Dumbledore nodded.

"Ah, that explains some things…Ronald, may I tell you a story?"

Ron nodded. "Go ahead professor…but can I have some pants?"

"Hmm? What out pants?" Ron blushed.

"Pants…may I have some?" Dumbledore smiled. "Oh, yes, yes…" He waved his wand offhandedly and a pair of dashing purple velour trousers appeared on Ron's skinny white legs.

"Now Ronald, onto my story…" Ron nodded.

"When I was a boy, I was in a situation very similar to yours…my brother Aberforth and I played a rather innocent joke on our brother Adlehard. Adlehard reciprocated with another joke, but unfortunately the stink sap blew up in our sister Brunhilde's face instead of ours….Brunhilde, of course, wanted her revenge. However, our youngest sister, Alfreda was with Adlehard when the dragon flew out of his closet…long story short, it only ended when our other brother Frank blew us all up. We weren't hurt, but man of us had no hair for a very long time afterwards."

"Frank?" Ron asked, bemused. Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, yes, Frank. He was always the oddest one in the family…." Ron remained quiet as Dumbledore stared off at the wall in some sort of reverie. Shaking himself back into the present, Dumbledore looked at Ron.

"Do you understand the point of my story?" he asked Ron seriously. Ron stared at him, bewildered.

"Umm…when in doubt, blow people up?"


	13. Last Will and Testament

To Whomever Reads This First:

This is the suicide letter, not to mention the Last Will and Testament of one Roonil Wazlib. Damnit. Ronald Weasley. Stupid spell check pens….

Anyway. Onto the deadly Sirius matter at hand. Damnit! Stupid spell check!

In this letter you will find detailed plans on how I single handedly planned and carried out the exploding of my siblings.

My plan is this: I will hide behind the statue of Hilda the Stump-Armed, until the time that my three siblings will meet in front of the statue. In case you are wondering how the three will come to be in the same place at the same time, I will have sent letters to each side, pretending to be from the other and asking for a peace treaty.

In front of the statue of Hilda the Stump-Armed.

Anyway. Once all three victims are in place, I will then cast a spell which I haven't decided upon yet. There will be a monstrous explosion, and by that time the Weasley War will hopefully be over.

Of course, the explosion won't hurt anyone, and won't really do anything other than get some smoke in their faces and maybe they'll lose some eyebrows. In fact, I don't really know what good it will do at all, but Dumbledore said it worked for him, so…I figure it'll work for me.

By the time the smoke clears I will hopefully have run from the scene, but it is quite possible that I will trip and therefore be caught and blamed for the explosion. Which really isn't my fault if you think about it. Dumbledore made me do it.

So that brings me to the first matter. The suicide letter. For surely blowing up my siblings qualifies as suicide, due to the fact that as soon as my dear old mum finds out, she'll kill me. Or embarrass me to death with a howler. Either way, it'll be nasty. Mark my words.

Onto my Will. I want Harry to have my chessboard. The players like him better, anyway. They've started calling me 'freckle face' and asking if they can switch sides and play for Harry. They really don't like it when I send them into imminent doom after such comments.

For Hermione, she gets all the school papers and essays I've ever written. I figure it's fitting, seeing as she wrote them all anyway.

Seamus can have my broom, and Snape can have Pig. Hopefully he'll annoy Snape to death, like he does to me.

Ginny and the twins get NOTHING. You hear me? NOTHING. Or if you want, they can have the dirty laundry that's been under my bed for the past eight months.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all she wrote.

DAMN SPELL CHECK! HE! All HE wrote!

Dutifully Noble-

The Loveable, Huggable, Oh-So Snuggleable

Roonil Wazlib

**Authors Note:**

**Ah, my lovely readers. I'm afraid that this is the end of the road. Yes! It's true! This is the last chapter of my story. Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, and being awesome. And I have to say…I'm really, really relieved that it's done. Whoo!**

**So, this is goodbye…until I come up with another story. And I really hope you all will come back and read the next one!**


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